The Life and Death of Edward Masen
by Obsessively-Infatuated
Summary: Edward's story of how he went from human, Edward Masen, to brooding, self-loathing vampire Edward Cullen and what shaped him into the man he became.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:**

Edward's story from just before he is turned into a vampire and during his "life" as one.

**Story Notes:**

In the books we get little snippets of information about Edward's life as a vampire and I could not help but wonder what events had transpired to lead him in one direction or another. How did he get to be so self-loathing? What was he like as a human? What about that pesky murdering spree he went on for a few years? Like my first attempt at writing Twilight, I tried desperately hard to stay in character or how I pictured he might have been (during his human life). This is not an Edward/Bella story, so I don't know if anyone will want to read it, but it wiggled into my head and I just could NOT get it out, so here I am, writing another Twilight Fan fiction. Rated T for now, will move into MA later on due to violence (remember... pesky murdering spree!)

**Chapter Notes:**

So since the story is entitled "The Life and Death of Edward Masen", we of course have to have some human time in there. I do apologize for the turtle of a start... the first couple of chapters will be kind of slow. However, if you stick with me, I hope to make it up to you! I will update soon to try and keep you interested! Any and all critiquing is welcomed!

**Disclaimer:**

All characters are the owned creation of Stephenie Meyers... I own nothing and in no way do I think I am comparable to her as a writer, I just like biting on the story she's created. This is my little prequel to Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

Her gaze transfixed me. Our eyes locked together as our bodies edged closer to one another. Her lips, open ever so slightly, trembled with her labored breaths. I wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel her body quiver in anticipation, but I restrained. Her pale skin, creamy and translucent, calls out to me, begging me for the slightest bit of a caress. A soft breeze catches a small wisp of her hair, causing her dark tresses to dance about her cheek. Once again I contain my urge to touch her; to tuck away the escaped strands back behind her ear. Inch by hesitating inch our faces move closer to one another, her eyes still holding mine hostage. I could feel the warmth of her breath dance over my mouth as her lids closed over her deep, chocolate eyes. Leaning in, I close mine as well, expectantly waiting for my lips to find hers.

"Edward! Get up or you'll be late!"

My eyes snapped open, yanking me from my dream and thrusting me back into reality. With the voice of my mother still slightly echoing in my head, a frustration filled sigh escaped from my lips. Another night of being haunted by _her_. The dream was the same each time. And each time I've dreamt it, I have awoken with a sense of longing, wanting desperately to go back to sleep so I could see her again. Not that I could really see her. Her face remains a mystery to me; having only the slightest bit of detail in my memory. Dark hair, brown eyes and pale skin is all I take away with me each time, hardly narrowing down her identity. I clenched my eyes closed and desperately willed myself to remember some other detail, some small clue, knowing that it was a fruitless effort, for each time was always the same.

With a defeated groan I pushed the covers from me and swung my legs off the side of the bed, staying perched on the edge. With my elbows on my knees, I held my head in my hands and allowed my thoughts to trail back to her again. She always came to me on nights where I went to bed worried or stressed, adding to my mother's theory that she was my guardian angel. But who dreams of kissing an angel? Or I should say, almost kissing an angel, as the dream has never gotten any further then the point in which I was just woken up at.

"Edward!" My mother called up to me again.

Raking my fingers through my already disheveled hair, I let out a final resounding sigh. As I stood, I let my mind travel from the girl in my dreams to my beloved mother. Today I was going to break her heart. Eight weeks ago I had turned 17 years old. An age still one year short to legally enlist in the army. However, I had decided to plain and simply lie. I could pass for 18 just as easily as 17. My decision to enlist now was not a happenstance. My father had begun the process of grooming me to take after him, preparing me for a life as a banker, much to my dismay. I loved my father dearly. A kind, hard working man; an honorable and loving husband and father; everything I hoped that I will one day become. But I do not wish to follow in his footsteps. At this point I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew one thing for certain. I did not want to be a banker.

I dressed quickly and tried to bring some semblance of order to my unruly hair. It was a pointless battle. The reddish-brown locks I had inherited from my mother had a mind of their own and never willingly obeyed my attempts at containing them. I walked down to my awaiting breakfast slowly, wanting desperately to not have to continue this charade of accompanying my father to work, to learn a job I had no intention of doing.

My father had not yet made his way down to the kitchen, leaving me to try and divert my eyes from my mothers all knowing gaze. It would only take her one glance into my face to know I was hiding something. My mother was very intuitive, a trait that I had inherited from her. We were both fairly descent at reading people, being able to know what their intentions truly were. However, when we turned this knack on each other, it became surreal. We knew each others emotions without having to look for a smile or a tear. There was no hiding of fears, lies or secrets. We just _knew_ there was something, only we didn't know the details.

I sat down at the table in front of the plate my mother had fixed for me, keeping my eyes low as I pushed the eggs around with my fork. "Good morning mother," I said, trying my best to sound casual.

She turned from the stove and looked at me. I could feel her eyes on the side of my face, studying me as I concentrated on the plate before me, trying to keep my demeanor as normal as possible. I did my best to ignore her as she sat next to me, her eyes still fixed on my profile. "What's wrong Edward?" She asked, concern coating her words.

I shoved an entire egg in my mouth and garbled out an almost incoherent, "hmm?" as I raised my head towards her, while still keeping my eyes on my plate. My attempts at being nonchalant were failing; I was a horrible liar. She reached out with her left hand, gently turning my face towards hers. I kept my eyes low, chewing my food more slowly then needed.

"Edward?" She repeated. I continued to gnaw on my food, not meeting her concerned stare. She ducked her head slightly, trying to meet my gaze. "Sweetie, what is it?" I swallowed the pulverized mush that was in my mouth, but still I didn't speak. "We don't keep secrets from each other," she cooed.

"More like, can't," I grumbled.

She sighed softly and said, "What is it you want to keep secret from me?"

I shook my head and rolled my eyes, allowing mine to finally meet hers. My mother's eyes were the color of a fresh blade of grass; a vibrant Kelly green. I had been told on many occasions that I had her eyes, but this was untrue. Although mine were green as well, they were not the bright, vivacious color of hers. Mine were darker, more dull and pallid. However, I was more then willing to take the compliment; I welcomed any similarities to my mother.

I let out a heavy sigh and quietly said, "I don't want to be a banker."

She smiled a mother's smile and lightly stroked my cheek. "Is that all? Your father suspected as much," she said smiling. "He just wanted you to have options so you..."

"I'm enlisting today," I said flatly, interrupting her.

I watched her smile fade off of her face as my words found their home in her mind. Her hand slipped from my cheek and fell into her lap. A thick silence filled the space between us. Minutes passed before a sound or movement was made. Without speaking, my mother stood and went back to the stove to attend to my father's breakfast. "You're not old enough," she said with her back to me.

"I'm going to lie," I told her honestly, my eyes back to staring at my plate.

I heard her swallow loudly as her shoulders hunched slightly. I hated myself at that moment. Hated that I caused her grief and concern, but I had to do what was going to be best for me. Had to do what _I_ wanted to do.

"You can't wait one more year until you're 18?"

"By then it will just be another excuse for me to not go," I said, turning my body so I faced her back. "I want to fight in the Great War. I want to feel like I am helping out in some way. I want to belong to something, to stand for something!" I said my voice full of conviction.

For as long as I could remember I have been awkward; a jigsaw piece that didn't belong to the puzzle. Always on the outside looking in. My family made too much money for me to be with the public school kids, yet made too little for me to belong with the private school ones. I was mediocre at everything; grades, sports and even music. My mother, a highly trained pianist, tried desperately hard to teach me to play, but my fingers lacked the grace needed to be any good at it.

Turning to face me with sadness in her eyes that I had put there, my mother pleaded, "Fine, belong to something... something other than a war!"

"Mother, the newspapers are calling it 'The war to end all wars'," I said urgently.

"As long as there are bullets for guns, there will be wars," she scoffed, turning back to the stove. "There's nothing special about this one."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the sound of my fathers approach silenced me. I would wait until I was enlisted to tell him, by then it would be too late for him to try and stop me. My father was not a domineering man, but his face was strong, chiseled and confident. Physically, I was my father, minus the confidence. I had his height, his build and his face, only with my mother's hair and eyes. Internally, I was my mother, although, she too had the confidence that I was lacking.

He turned the corner into the kitchen and I immediately noticed how pale and chalky his face was. Perspiration had gathered at his temples and he was breathing erratically. My mother turned from the stove and gasped at his appearance. For the past couple days he had been tired, almost drained of life, but today was worse, he barely looked like my father.

"Darling are you okay?" She asked frantically.

He cleared his throat and said, "I'm fine." His usually strong voice sounding very weak. "I just can't seem to shake this damn fever. I'll be fine." Swallowing loudly, he apologetically said, "I'm sorry Elizabeth, no breakfast today. My stomach doesn't feel up for it." He smiled weakly at her and then he turned his attention towards me and grimaced a smile, "We don't want to be late."

I nodded and turned to get up. I was no sooner on my feet when I heard a resounding thud behind me. My mother's scream of my father's name, my name, told me what I feared I'd find when I turned around. There, on his back on the kitchen floor, unconscious, but breathing in jagged breaths, was my father. My mother rushed to him, cradling his head in her lap. Her hands wiping away the perspiration that was gathering around his head and neck, repeatedly saying his name. Dumbstruck, I had not moved. I stared at the scene before me as though I were looking through a stranger's eyes.

"Edward! Run and get Dr. Hastings! Hurry!" She shouted at me.

I nodded quickly and bolted out the front door, hearing my mother's sobs echoing in my mind as I ran down the street.

_ "Oh Edward, please! Edward! No! No! Edward please no!"_

* * *

**End Notes:**

**1.** I've been doing a lot of "research" on Spanish Influenza and also just little tidbits from the four books that tell the back stories. So if at any time I make a "boo boo" about a fact or nugget of knowledge, please let me know. I want to do the original story justice and not go messing it up because I wasn't paying close enough attention.  
**2.** I know I know I know, Alice is the one with the premonitions... but they're dreams, not really premonitions. Dreams can feel very real sometimes! And the dream thing comes up later and has a bit of significance, to a certain extent.  
**3.** I'll update soon!! Don't give up on me please!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Notes:**

Once again, a kind of slow chapter, but a necessary evil. I'm still working on Chapter 3, but I'll have it up as soon as I can. My job at this point is to not allow you to lose interest because of the slow beginning!! So please, I beg of you again.... hang in there!! I am horrible at naming things, so I won't even attempt naming the chapters.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

I ran. I ran until my lungs burned and my breath came in painful gasps. I ran through the fire that was growing in the side of my abdomen, causing me to want to double over in agony. I ran though the muscles in my legs quivered and spasmed. I ran even though every bit of my being wanted me to stop running, willed me to at least slow down, but I could not. I ran because the image of my father's body sprawled on the kitchen floor with my mother sobbing his name haunted me. I ran for help, but also from fear.

I reached Dr. Hastings house, knocking at his door like a mad man, unable to call out as oxygen refused to remain in my lungs long enough for me to form words. Finally, my commotion stirred attention within the walls and I was greeted by the kind face of his house keeper, Dorothy. She quickly rushed to the door, having already taken in my breathless, haggard appearance. "What is it child?" She asked, concern coating her voice as she pushed open the screen door, crouching next to me.

Bent over trying to alleviate the pain in my sides as well as catch my breath, I managed to croak out the words "My father" and "Dr. Hastings" between gasps.

She nodded and disappeared back within the house. I struggled to hear over my own breathing, straining for any sound that would indicate that Dr. Hastings was approaching. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, I could hear the muffled sound of the doctor's voice coming near me. I straightened myself out from my bent over stance, having regained most of the control of my breathing. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as the doctor came into view.

"Edward?" He asked, confusion showing through his face and voice.

"Dr. Hastings!" I nearly yelled as he pushed open the screen door. "Please! It's my father!" my voice ached with urgency.

"Okay, let's settle down for a moment," he said calmly. "What's happened?"

"He's passed out on the kitchen floor! He hasn't been feeling well and today... today he... today... today was worse," I stammered. "Please Dr. Hastings! Please come help us!"

"Alright Edward," he said, his voice still very calm. "I'll go take a look at him. Come on."

I nodded quickly and took off down the doctor's driveway. I hadn't gotten very far when I heard him call out my name, making me stop dead in my tracks, my feet skidding along the loose gravel.

"Edward, I'm too old to go running all the way to your house," he smiled softly. "How about we take my car instead?"

I glanced between him and the black Model T that was parked near the far end of the house. _Yes_, I thought to myself, _a car would be handy incase we have to take him to the hospital_. I turned and ran back up the driveway, my shoes slipping on the small stones beneath my feet as I tried desperately to propel myself forward as quickly as possible. I arrived at the car first and jumped in the passenger side. My body shook with agitation, annoyed with the doctor's lack of urgency for my father.

A quick glance over my shoulder told me that the elderly doctor was making his way towards his car, slowly. Oscar Hastings had been a family friend for longer than I had even been alive. He treated both of my parents since they were younger then I am now and was even the man that delivered me into this world. It wasn't often that we called on him when he was not at the hospital, but there had been a few occasions. They had always been centered around me and my pension for accidents; never for my parents.

It was this fact that made my legs twitch and fidget and kept my breathing from being able to regulate fully. I wanted desperately to scream at him to hurry up, to move faster. I needed him to understand just how bad my father looked splayed across the floor. I ached to convey the desperation and fear that consumed me. It felt as though time had some how slowed down and sped up all at once. The adrenaline in my veins widened my eyes, bringing the world around me into a strange kind of clarity. And yet, everything was a blur, an incomprehensible blur.

I had no notion of how long it had taken me to get to the doctors house; no idea of how long I waited for him to acknowledge my presence. Time was my enemy and every slow, shuffled step the doctor took was starting to literally cause me pain. I had clenched my hands into fists so tight that the whites of my knuckles boar through my skin and my fingers ached, taking the brunt of my frustrations from the moment.

Finally, the driver side door opened and, with great effort, the doctor climbed in. Every motion he did seemed to take twice as long as I thought it should, but finally we were on our way towards my father, not knowing what we'd find when we got there.

During the drive to my house I filled Dr. Hastings in with the details of my father's health for the past few days. He listened, while adding a "hmm" here and there or occasionally furrowing his brow. He drove more slowly than I wished, still not showing the urgency I longed for him to understand.

I hadn't waited for the car to fully stop before I jumped out and ran towards the house. I yanked the front door open and hurried to the kitchen, where I had left my parents. I hoped to find my father sitting at the table, looking as though nothing had happened at all. Or, even waiting there with a look of disapproval on his face, telling me I had over reacted by getting the doctor. However, that was not the case. The scene I was greeted with was much like the one I had fled; my mother still cradling my father's head in her lap, tears streaking down her face as she repeatedly sobbed his name.

I came to my mother's side by my father's limp, pale body and whispered, "Mother?"

Startled, she looked at me, her Kelly green eyes, even more vibrant from her tears, were clouded over. "Edward," she choked out. "Where's Dr. Hastings?"

"He's here mother," I paused, letting my eyes fall back on to my father's unmoving form. "He... he's..." I fought to find the correct words, the proper words, but my mind had shut down and was no longer functioning the way it should. So instead, I said what I was truly thinking. "He's old and slow, but he's here."

Silence filled the air between us as we waited for the doctor to finally make his way in to where we were. His slow, shuffling steps telling us exactly how many more seconds we would have to wait until we had someone qualified to tell us what was happening to my father.

Neither of us looked up when Dr. Hastings entered the room, afraid of what his initial reaction to my father's appearance might tell us. However, this didn't prevent me from noticing the doctors breath catching as he gazed down at my father's still form. _Damn my overly keen perception_. No relief had come from the doctor's presence.

"Elizabeth," he spoke softly. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

Slowly my mother raised her head up to meet his eyes, leading me to believe that she too had caught his change in breathing pattern at the appearance of my father. "We can talk here." She said, placing a hand over mine.

Dr. Hastings eyes flicked between my mother and me before he resided to continue on, much to his dismay. "How many days has he been feverish?"

"A few," she said quietly

"Any bloody noses?"

The question caught my mother off guard and she blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend the question. "Excuse me?"

"Bloody noses," he repeated. "Were you aware of any he may have had?"

"No, I..." she stopped. "I don't know," she answered breathlessly

"Any red splotches on his chest or back? Marks that weren't there before?"

"No. Um," confusion washed over her face again as she looked from me to the doctor. "I... I don't know," she sobbed out.

"Hmm," was his only reply.

Desperate for some answers and unable to contain myself any longer I rose to my feet. With more menace then I meant to have in my voice I said, "What is it? What are you thinking?"

Shocked by my assertiveness, he took a step back before answering. "There has been a small outbreak of Typhoid Fever in the area. I'm not sure if this is another case or not, but I would rather take him to the hospital just in case."

"Typhoid!" My mother exclaimed, her hand rising to her throat as her breathing started to come in gasps.

"Now Elizabeth," he said calmly. "I'm not sure. Let's try not to panic until we know if there's something to panic about. We can take him in my car." His attention moved from my mother to me. "Edward, can you carry him?"

I was barely aware of my head nodding "yes". My body was numb and paralyzed as the word "Typhoid" echoed through my mind. At some point I bent down and awkwardly lifted my father, his feet still dragging along the ground, as I was not strong enough to carry him properly. I don't fully recall doing this, nor do I remember putting him the back seat, or even the car ride to the hospital. I can't recall when they took him away or when my mother began to sob into my chest. I was sleepwalking through a nightmare that I was desperate to awaken from.

* * *

**End Notes:**

1. In my research on Spanish Influenza I found out that it was commonly misdiagnosed due to the fact that unlike most strains of influenza it affected 20-40 year olds more then the usual victims of influenza outbreaks (children and the elderly) and dengue, cholera and typhoid were the three most common misdiagnosis. So Dr. Hastings wasn't a complete idiot. All the traits that the Dr. asked about were common in Typhoid but not in Spanish Influenza.  
2. Chapter 3 will not only give us what little bit of information I could get on Spanish Influenza, but it also gives us the introduction of Carlisle! Paging Dr. Cullen.... so please come back for Chapter 3!!  
3. As for Chapter 2, in my research I couldn't get a conclusive answer as to how common it was to use an ambulance. And it was in the beginning when cars were starting to become more affordable and common place. I would conclude that the Masens would probably have their own car, but Elizabeth probably wouldn't know how to drive it and I couldn't even begin to guess if it were common for a 17 year old to know how to drive a car then. So it was the mixture of not knowing all those things why I had the Dr. drive. However, Dr. Hastings was always intended to come to house and misdiagnose Edward's dad... I just didn't know how I wanted to get him from the home to the hospital. I'm aiming for as close to accuracy as possible!!  
4. Thanks for coming back and reading this if you are returning, I hope you'll please come back for Chapter 3 !! If you are new to the story... please come back as well! Once I get past the slow beginning and get to the parts that made me HAVE to write this story it should get a lot better (i hope!!)


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Notes:**

So I feel like this chapter is simply information... information on Spanish Influenza... Information on how fixated Edward is on this dream girl... Information of the kind of character Edward's mom is and how that leads to her eventual plea to Carlisle... information in general. This was the easiest chapter to write to date, because it is information... information I found fascinating. However, this chapter does give us Carlisle so yay!!!!

* * *

**Chapter 3  
**

I had no idea how much time had passed since they had taken my father away. No one had come out to give us a definitive answer as to what was wrong with him; if it was indeed typhoid that had stricken him. My mother, emotionally drained from the day's events, rested her head on my shoulder. She wasn't fully asleep, but she wasn't conscious either. She had grown quite pale from the fatigue of the day, with dark circles surrounding her eyes and tear streaks staining her cheeks from her periodic breakdowns. She was strong, but the lack of information, the not knowing, was getting the better of her. Trying to keep my mind occupied, I reverted to a game I had found myself playing ever since I had first begun dreaming of _her_.

I would take in the people around me and truly look at them. I would look deeper into them than I'm sure anyone else did around me. Did the admitting nurse have the right color eyes? No. Though brown, they did not have the depth of the chocolate orbs that I recalled from my dreams. Was the girl sitting across from me in the waiting room the owner of the same fair, creamy skin that had me aching to touch it? No. And even if she did, her hair wasn't a match; it was far too light. Dark hair was an easy enough match to find to the girl in my dreams, but whenever I looked to either the eyes or the skin to complete the combination, I always came up short. Sure there were times that I found dark hair, brown eyes and fair skin, but it was never quite right. It was never perfect enough to convince me that _she_ was who I was dreaming of. There was always something; freckles on the skin or a lack of depth to the eyes. It always came down to the eyes. My angel's eyes had captured my soul since the first time I dreamt of her and it was in those eyes that I would find the completion to myself. And so I would continue to look, desperate to find the one that would make my heart flutter, convinced that she was the one I was destined to be with.

The arrival of Dr. Hastings into the waiting room pulled me from my thoughts and thrust me back into reality. I gently shook my mother to wake her, not realizing how warm her head was against my shoulder until she had removed it. She quickly attempted to fix her appearance as the doctor approached us. Eager to get any kind of information as to what was going on, we stood as he shuffled towards us. My mother grasped tightly to my arm, steadying herself for whatever the doctor was about to tell us. I barely noticed the young, blonde man in the doctor's coat standing a few feet behind him. Every ounce of my attention was preparing me for whatever Dr. Hastings was going to say.

"Elizabeth... Edward," he said, nodding to us individually. His demeanor hinted that the news was not good. He kept his face drawn with no emotion coming through. He was a doctor delivering bad news, not a family friend with information. "I'm afraid that it's what I feared."

"Typhoid?!" My mother cried out, her voice cracking with emotion. "But how..." she trailed off, tears streaming down her face again.

"Now, Elizabeth, I need you to remain calm. It's quite early into it and there's still a good chance that he could pull through this. We've already started him on antibiotics."

The blonde man that had been standing back moved very quickly to the doctor's side. "Dr. Hastings, can I please speak with you for a moment?" He asked, a sense of urgency in his voice. It was then that I truly looked at him. He was young, far too young to be wearing the doctor's coat he had on. His hair was perfectly blonde, as though he had lived his life in the sun. However, his skin looked as though he hadn't seen daylight in years. He was pale, too pale to even be considered fair. His lips were a deep crimson and contrasted drastically with his white skin.

"Dr. Cullen I am with a patient's family..." Dr. Hastings began.

"I am aware of that, sir, and it is the reason I really wish to speak with you," the young doctor interrupted. He turned and cast a soft smile at my mother and me. His face was unlike anything I had ever seen before. He was too attractive to be labeled as handsome, but was 'beautiful' an appropriate term for a man? His eyes, though kind, were the most peculiar color; a soft gold that seemed to shine out under his blonde hair and against his pale skin. I felt my mother's breathe catch as she pulled herself back and away from him ever so slightly. He returned his attention back to Dr. Hastings and said, "Please, just for a moment."

Dr. Hastings exhaled loudly and excused himself from our conversation, stepping a few paces away from where we were standing. I was unable to hear their conversation from where he had left us standing, so I took the opportunity of moving closer to them by showing my mother to a seat. The word 'typhoid' had brought about the return of her tears. I brought her head to my shoulder, turning mine so my ear was towards the conversation I was not meant to hear.

"I just think you should consider it as an option," I overheard the young doctor, Dr. Cullen, say.

"Spanish Influenza has already come through here in March Dr. Cullen. I appreciate your input, but I would rather you attend to your own patients and leave me to attend to mine."

"But sir, your patient isn't showing signs of typhoid. He has pneumonia and the antibiotics are not going-"

"I am aware that he has pneumonia, Dr. Cullen. Typhoid makes a patient very susceptible to other illnesses and antibiotics are how we treat pneumonia." There was a patronizing tone to Dr. Hastings voice.

"Yes," Dr. Cullen said forcefully. "As long as the pneumonia you are treating is bacterial. However, what you are dealing with here is viral. Antibiotics won't have any affect. All you are doing is preventing him from getting bacterial pneumonia in his weakened state."

"What are you basing this on? It's August. Influenza outbreaks don't usually occur until the winter months and the patient is thirty-seven years old. That's not your typical age for an influenza patient. I don't know how they taught you medicine in New York, but here in Chicago, we-"

"Spanish Influenza attacks stronger immune systems and causes it to be used against itself. There has been an extremely virulent strain reported in France as well as Boston just last week."

Dr. Hastings chuckled softly. "We are quite a bit away from France, dear boy."

"But not Boston," Dr. Cullen countered. "He's had a fever for a few days now, trouble breathing and since being admitted to the hospital he has started coughing up blood. Once you add to that the slight blue tint in his face-"

"There's no blue tint to his face," Dr. Hastings interrupted roughly.

"Trust me, there is." Dr. Cullen said, hardening his expression. "I have very keen eye sight."

"And you're saying I don't?" Dr. Hastings pulled his shoulders back, clearly insulted.

"No, that is definitely not what I'm saying. What I am saying concerns your patient."

"That's right. _My_ patient." Dr. Hastings said, with an edge in his voice. "_My_ patient has typhoid. Now if you don't mind..."

I watched in my peripheral vision as Dr. Hastings began to turn his back to Dr. Cullen, but was stopped when the young doctor forcefully grabbed his arm.

"If it's typhoid then where are the symptoms? There haven't been any bloody noses, no delirium, no red splotches or distended stomach."

"Those are symptoms that occur later on."

"Not for how sick he is. He should be showing all those symptoms _now_ if what we were dealing with is typhoid."

Dr. Hastings pulled his arm from Dr. Cullen's grasp. "If you have any wish of being in this hospital for any length of time, then you'll learn to mind yourself young man. We do things differently here." With a final glower at Dr. Cullen, Dr. Hastings turned back to us.

I did my best to act as though I didn't overhear everything that had just transpired as Dr. Hastings spoke to us again. My mother brought her head up from my shoulder, giving her full attention to the doctor. "We've got everything under control. I'll let you know if there is any progress." He smiled insincerely as he turned and shuffled away, casting a final bitter glance at Dr. Cullen.

"Stubborn old fool," muttered Dr. Cullen under his breath. The young doctor turned and looked at me, causing my breath to catch in my throat. Nothing about him seemed menacing and yet, I had a feeling of unease as he looked at me. Even when he smiled a pleasant smile, revealing glowing white teeth, I wanted nothing more than to back away from him. His soft smile faded from his lips and concern took over his face as his attention fell to my mother. With troubled eyes, he smiled at us again then turned and walked away.

I watched as the young doctor strode across to the nurse's station and picked up a patients chart. He had a graceful quality to him.

"There's something, I don't know, _different_ about him," my mother said pensively.

"Who? Dr. Cullen?" I asked, confusion in my voice.

"Yes," she said, furrowing her brow.

"He seems nice enough," I said, still looking at the young doctor.

"Edward, listen to me," she whispered, placing her hand on my cheek and turning my face so I was looking at her. "'Different' doesn't mean bad. I want you to remember that, okay?"

I looked back in the direction of the young doctor and I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw his cheek tick, as though he were about to smile. I faced my mother again and nodded, knowing that her assessment of the doctor was right. Without question, he _was_ different. And though I felt uneasy around him, I knew he wasn't bad. He couldn't be, knowing how much concern he had for my father. Different, yes. But definitely not bad.

* * *

**End Notes:**

**1.** So now you have permission to not like Dr. Hastings. Although, Carlisle is just brilliant and has been around forever so he just _knows_ things that poor Hastings had no chance of knowing.  
**2.** All the information I got for Spanish Influenza was obtained on , and to the best of my knowledge is correct. There _was_ a second outbreak in August in Boston and in France however I don't know if it got to Chicago... I assume it did because by September it was in D.C., so I took some creative licensing and had it work with the time frame I was going with (because ww1 ended in November and round 2 of the flu came around in August, so I just picked a week and went with it). On a side note, Edwards parents are mentioned in the fictional characters that were killed by Spanish flu on wikipedia!  
**3.** I want it known here and now, I adore Carlisle!! I will be reiterating this throughout the coming chapters.  
**4.** Once again, sorry for the slow progression of the story. I probably could have skipped all of this, but I wanted there to be some human Edward time so I could have a harsh contrast between what he was to what he became. And I just didn't want to be like "oh he got sick." So I actually took the time to look up what the symptoms probably were, as information on it is sketchy at best. One thing every place I looked seemed to agree on, it killed quickly.  
**5.** The dream girl, he's desperate to find her. He looks every where for her... of course we all know when/where he finds his dream girl, but keep on trusting me... there is a point to it!!  
**6.** So here is where I beg you to give it a chance, keep coming back! Give me to at least chapter 6 or 7 before you decide if you completely hate it!! I'll try and update again quickly so as to keep you interested!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Notes:**

Well first off I need to apologize for this taking so long! I had wanted to have this posted by Tuesday and here it is Sunday... so yeah that didn't quite happen! I had a rough outline of the chapter, what needed to happen and all that... weeeeelllll, the chapter kind of ran away from me, literally at one point! I pulled three all-nighters, convinced each night that THAT night would be the night where I finished it. I had once been told by a writing instructor that I'm "overly descriptive", so I think that had a bit to do with it as well. Then there were things that, although they weren't in the outline, they just really worked and it actually foreshadows for the actual book of Twilight! Which like I said, not a single one of my foreshadows was in the outline, they just came out and only after proof reading the section I had written did I see it! So of course, they had to stay! So that slightly altered my outline... then the outline expanded... and before I knew it I was begging for this chapter to end! So with that said, this chapter was the complete opposite of Chapter 3 (3 was easy, did it in a few hours)... lots of hours went into this chapter and it's over twice the length of all the others!! Whew! Thanks for waiting so patiently!! I hope you enjoy it, as it is definitley not my favorite!

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**Chapter 4**

We waited. Our lives had stalled as we sat for endless hours, hoping for some word on my father's condition. Apprehension choked the air from my throat as thoughts of hope attempted to pacify my saddened heart. Hours continued to pass without word concerning my father. And so we waited, while that thin thread of hope that we clung to so desperately began to fray.

They had moved my mother and me to a separate room so that she could rest. Her appearance was beginning to frighten me. The dark circles that surrounded her eyes earlier had grown into a deep purple, giving her face a sunken quality to it. I couldn't be sure, but I thought her skin looked paler then it had as well, almost chalky. She was clearly exhausted, as this endless day of waiting had been hard on both of us. However, she never seemed to be able to fall into a calming slumber. She tossed, turned and wept in her sleep. I felt so helpless as I sat in a chair next to her bed. Occasionally I would surrender to the fatigue I could feel creeping into my body. But it never lasted. My elbow propped up my hand, allowing me some place to sleep, until my cheek would slide off and startle me awake or a noise would drag me back into consciousness, so I could wait some more.

The waiting was the worst part. I hated waiting. I was never any good at it. All my life I had been a person of no patience. I needed instant gratification. I would grow perturbed with things that were beyond the scope of human control. Time seemed to be my enemy. It couldn't go fast enough to please me. As with any child I was impatient for the arrival of Christmas or my birthday. However, I became extremely annoyed when I felt I was not growing fast enough. And just this morning I reiterated my lack of patience by telling my mother that I could not wait a single year to legally join the army so I could fight in a war. I really hated waiting. And now I found myself in my own personal Hell, in which all I could do was wait.

My mother's body shifted in the bed. Her face turned towards mine as a pained expression overtook her features. She was crying again. "Edward, no. No, no, no. Please no," she repeated in her sleep. My heart ached at the sight of this.

Would I ever feel the kind of love that my parents had for one another? There had always been constant affection between them. I have memories of soft smiles and stolen glances when they thought I wasn't looking. A tender touch of the cheek, a gentle kiss on the hand; private moments of love. Every night I would hear the scraping of wood against wood, as they pushed their beds together so they could sleep next to each other. And in the morning I could hear the bed frames scratch along the floor again, being placed back in their regular spots, separated once more. They had slept beside one another every night for as long as I could remember, until tonight. My father lay in another room, in some unknown condition as my mother wept in her sleep.

I reached out and brushed away the tears that streamed from her unconscious eyes. Her cheek felt cool under my fingertips. My light touch startled her, causing her eyes to flutter open. Guilt swarmed me for waking her. My hand began to retreat from her face, but was stopped by her cold, clammy touch as she held on to me loosely.

"Have you heard anything yet?"

"No." I sighed and tried to force a smile. "I'm sorry for waking you."

The slightest hint of a smile came across her lips. "It's fine. It was sleep without rest anyways." Her voice was hoarse and it was then that I realized she hadn't drunk or eaten anything all day. _That could account for her sunken eyes, her ashen skin and pale lips,_ I told myself. _That's it. That's what's wrong with her._

"I'm going to get you something to eat mother, okay?"

She pressed her lips together, closed her eyes and shook her head. "No. My stomach doesn't feel up for it," she said as she pulled herself up so that she was sitting.

My heart plummeted as I tried to ignore the fact that my father had already uttered those same words. "Some water then?" I asked, trying my best to hide my emotions from her.

She nodded her head ever so slightly, giving me the excuse I needed to get away, just for a moment, so I could release all that I had been stifling within myself. I walked quickly to the door, fleeing from the dread that had just been placed in my heart.

Opening the door and stepping out into the hallway, I immediately noticed that the atmosphere of the hospital had changed. It was busier then when we had been in the waiting room. Nurses moved about quickly, going from one patient to the next. Pale, chalky faces with dark sunken eyes were every where I looked. Were all these people sick as well? Had the Typhoid spread?

I was in the hallway for less than a minute before I was approached by a nurse. "You shouldn't be out here," she said trying to usher me back into the room I had just came from.

"Why?" I asked, shock showing through my face as well as my voice.

"The doctor will be in soon to see you." She continued to urge me towards the door.

"My mother needs water," I countered. "Can I just get her some water?" The nurse stopped pressing into me and considered my request. _What is going on? _I thought to myself. I could feel a sense of anxiety coming from her. And there was something else, something I couldn't quite pinpoint. Fear? Sadness? Her eyes darted from mine, making it impossible for me to read. I was becoming agitated, as I was usually quite intuitive when it came to people. "Please?" I asked again.

"The doctor will bring some in to you, you'll have to wait." She pushed me back into the room and closed the door in front of me.

_More waiting_, I grumbled to myself. Exhaling loudly, I turned and approached my mother, taking the seat I had just left minutes before. "There's something going on out there. Something's not right," I said raking my hands through my hair. "The nurse said Dr. Hastings will be in to see us soon and that he'll bring you some water." She nodded slightly and with a small smile on her lips, she raised her hand up to fix my ever disheveled hair. "You know that's pointless, it's never done what it's supposed to," I reminded her.

"I've been fixing your hair since you were born and even then it did whatever it wanted." She smiled at her memories and I smiled at the sight of her smiling. "Edward," she said, seriousness taking over her features. "I couldn't have asked for a better son, you know that right?" She placed her hand on top of mine, her skin still very cool to the touch.

I opened my mouth to speak, not knowing what I was going to say. All I knew was that I didn't like the feeling that those words had had on my stomach. Our shared intuition was telling me something. More sadness and _finality_? _No_, I thought. _No, that can't be right. _The door to our room opened, interrupting my thought process. I turned, expecting to see Dr. Hastings. However, I was met with the golden eyes of Dr. Cullen.

"I heard we needed some water in here." He smiled softly first towards me and then my mother, as he walked over to her holding a glass.

I watched my mother pull back slowly, almost cringing into the bed as he approached her. I couldn't understand why we both reacted the way we did, considering it wasn't how we truly felt. It was as though it were a subconscious instinct that we had no control over. He had changed his clothes since the last time we had seen him. The light blue shirt he wore made his white flesh look as though it were made of porcelain. Had we really been here that long?

"Thank you Dr. Cullen," my mother said while taking the glass, carefully avoiding his hand.

"Please, call me Carlisle." His voice was smooth, rich and graceful. It flowed evenly, like a calming whisper. I'm not sure how I had not noticed it yesterday when I had been eavesdropping. "How are you feeling Mrs. Masen?"

"Elizabeth," she replied.

Carlisle nodded once, his lips holding on to the same smile as when he had walked into the room. It wasn't insincere, but it wasn't real either. He was holding something back. He felt me studying him and flashed a look in my direction quickly before returning his attention back to my mother. His eyes were impossible to read. Maybe it was their unusual color or the speed in which he diverted them from me, but his eyes told me nothing.

"I'm fine," her voice struggled. "How's my husband?"

His smile faltered slightly. "He's Dr. Hastings patient, he hasn't been in to see you?"

A lump started to form in my throat as my mother shook her head.

"I'll go find the doctor for you," he said softly. "Can I get you anything else?"

"No, just," she paused searching for the right word. "Information." Her eyes pleaded with the doctor.

"Of course." The young doctor turned and walked towards the door.

"Mother, I'll be right back." I was on my feet and following the doctor before I had a chance to realize what I was doing. "Dr. Cullen! Wait!" He was already out of our room and into the hallway by the time I got his attention.

"You shouldn't be out here." He approached me as he looked to either side of himself.

"Why? _What_ is going on?" I asked in a raised voice. "Who are all these people?"

"Edward I need you to keep your voice down," he said as he lead me further down the hallway; away from everyone else.

"Just tell me what's going on. Are all these people here because of Typhoid?" I whispered loudly. I could see him deciding what he wanted to say. I watched his internal struggle as he contemplated his decision. "Please? I need to know."

Minutes passed and silence fell heavy over us a he thought to himself. "Okay," he said nodding once. He paused briefly before he continued on. "I know you overheard Dr. Hastings and I yesterday-"

"I didn't mean to," I lied, shaking my head.

"Its okay, Edward. It's okay." He lifted his hands and motioned for me to be calm. "Do you remember the conversation?"

I crossed my arms over my chest and said "You didn't think it was Typhoid."

"Right." He paused again, thinking. "Typhoid can be very serious, very life threatening. However, it takes time. Weeks of gradually getting sicker." His voice was very low as he spoke.

I nodded towards him, showing him that I followed and understood.

"Well, all these people are getting very sick, very quickly. Hours, days... not weeks."

I nodded again. An unknown realization crept into the back of my mind, attempting to claw its way to the surface of my consciousness. I ignored it and pushed it back down, reveling in the bliss of ignorance.

"This isn't a Typhoid outbreak; it's Spanish Influenza. I've seen it before, but never this extreme. It strikes very fast and," he stopped as if deciding whether or not to continue. "It kills, very fast."

My eyes blurred and became unfocused, but still I nodded.

"There's little that we can do except try to contain it." He waited for my mind to fathom what he was saying.

I attempted to swallow, but the lump that had started to form in my throat earlier had grown larger. Slowly, my unwilling brain allowed my mouth to ask the question I was afraid to know the answer to. "Dr. Cullen, how's my father?" I could barely get the words out. I watched his eyes fall from mine. "Carlisle," I whispered. "Please..." When he raised his head again, letting his gaze meet mine, that stifled realization that I had not wanted to deal with just minutes earlier screamed out at me. "No." My voice was barely audible, as I slowly shook my head.

"Edward, I'm sorry." His pained eyes told me that he meant it.

I tried to force that lump that was in my throat down; I couldn't breathe. My eyes burned as I tried to contain the tears that hid just below the surface of my lids. How was I going to tell my mother? That thought caused my stomach to drop and brought a wave of nausea over me. I searched for the wall behind me to steady myself.

"They should have told you. I'm so sorry," he said softly.

It took a moment for his words to find understanding in my mind. _Should have_, past tense. I looked into the young doctor's face, wondering if I had heard him correctly. "When did he...," my mouth wouldn't complete the thought.

"About three hours ago."

_Three hours ago_. His words echoed in my mind. Three hours of waiting. Three hours of worrying. Three hours of not knowing and worthless hoping. Three hours of my mother begging and pleading with a God that had already made his decision. Three hours of hell.

I felt the blood rush to my face and my heart beat quicken. My nostrils flared as my hands made themselves into tightened fists. _Three hours_. They couldn't find five minutes in those three hours to let us know that our lives had been forever changed? Fury consumed me and my body started to shake. I pulled my shoulders back as my breaths started coming in fast and shallow. "Three hours?!" I growled through gritted teeth.

"Edward, calm down," Dr. Cullen said, attempting to subside my anger.

"No!" I screamed at him. "Three damn hours?!" I had the sudden urge to find Dr. Hastings. I wanted to wrap my fingers around his throat and squeeze the life out of him. I wanted to know what was so damn important that he couldn't find the time in three hours to let us know that my father had died. I wanted him to explain to me how his death wasn't significant enough to even render an 'I'm sorry'. With my body still shaking, I coiled my right arm back and slammed my fist into the wall, bone surrendering and crunching beneath my skin. The pain fed me.

Subconsciously, I knew I was being irrational. However, blind hatred was easier to deal with than overwhelming anguish. I clenched my fists tighter, feeling my right hand ache. I moved to walk around Dr. Cullen, so as to look for the elderly man I was holding accountable. The young doctor blocked my path. I tried the opposite direction, only to have it cut off again. "Move," I growled.

"No Edward. I need you to calm down," he said, his voice still smooth and graceful.

I attempted to push past him once again. His hand was suddenly on my chest, halting me. "Edward, stop." I ignored him and pressed on, trying to move forward, but, instead found myself moving backwards as I struck the wall roughly. Confusion took me over for a moment before I tried to shovemy body off the wall, only to find myself pinned there. I made several attempts to remove the single hand that pressed on my chest holding me in place, but they were all futile.

Dr. Cullen was stronger than he looked.

"Edward," he said evenly, his face the picture of serenity. "I want you take some deep breaths. I'm not going to let you go until you've calmed down." Still stunned by the fact that I was being held in place by a lone hand, I nodded and began taking in slow, full breaths. "I appreciate your feelings. I sympathize with your anger. However, you need to understand that there are not enough doctors and nurses; everyone is getting sick." He waited for me to show some indication of comprehension. "I need you to pull yourself together. You need to be strong. Your mother needs you to be strong."

The mention of my mother brought me fully back into reality. My mother; how was I going to tell her?

All tension had left my body. My muscles, once constricted and tight were now relaxed and fatigued. Exhaustion plagued my body, while hard contact with a wall made my knuckles throb. Feeling that I had calmed down enough, Carlisle released me. I flexed and shook my right hand, still liking the pain.

"Let me see," he said reaching out towards my injured fist.

"I'm fine, it's nothing."

Before I was able to react, he quickly grabbed my wrist. I recoiled, not from pain, but from pure shock as to how cold his fingers were. It felt as though his skin were made of ice. "You'll have to excuse my cold doctor's hands," he pulled his lips into a rehearsed smile. "You did a good job on this, you had some real force behind that punch. It looks like you've got two fractured knuckles. They'll heal on their own, but I can splint them for you if you'd like."

"No I'm fine."

I let my hand fall to my side and glanced towards the door that had my mother waiting anxiously on the other side. Still waiting, still hoping. I sighed heavily and moved slowly towards a moment in my life that I wished I could avoid. This was one time I did not mind waiting. I had no wish to break my mother's heart. But, it would be cruel to allow her to hold onto a hope that could never be. And so I walked to the door.

"Would you like me to tell her?" He asked softly.

I shook my head. No. I would do it. I had to do it. She needed me to be strong. I would be strong for her. I would shield her from the knowledge that the last three hours of hell were for nothing.

Standing outside the door my arms lay paralyzed by my side, unable to reach out and grab the knob. Staring at the blank slate in front of me, I attempted to determine what I would say. Nothing seemed appropriate or sufficient enough. And even if I found the words to say, would I actually be able to speak them? My mind was a jumble of incoherent thoughts as moments in my life flashed in my consciousness. The image of a memory played in my head. In it I was around four years old. I had been crying, but about what I couldn't remember. My head lay in my mother's lap as she stroked my hair and hummed a lullaby, assuring me that everything was okay. It was simple, comforting. Oh God how I needed that now. I wanted so badly to run into that room, throw my head in her lap and have her hum to me; to have her tell me everything was going to be alright. I wanted to be that four year old again, not the man that stood outside a door, trying to convince himself that he could be strong. To hell with being strong. I didn't want to watch my mothers eyes as part of her died. I needed her to tell me everything was going to be okay. But, she needed me to be the man that I had grown into, the man that she raised me to be.

I hadn't realized that I'd even opened the door until I was in the room. She had lain back down in bed, but wasn't sleeping. Slowly she eased herself up, apprehension showing through her every motion. Each reluctant step I took brought a dulling thud to my heart. I kept my eyes low, unable to meet her gaze.

Her breath hitched in her throat. _She knows_. The slight sound of her staggered breath was enough to make me look up so I could watch that horrible realization creep into my mother's eyes. She shook her head from side to side, her mouth agape, but no sound coming out. Tears pooled in her lids as her chin began to quiver. _Be strong_, I told myself. _She needs you to be strong_. I wanted to go to her, to comfort her the way she had comforted me so many times over the years, but I couldn't move. I was frozen in place as my eyes glazed over with my own tears. She was next to me in an instant, leaning on me. I hugged her to me while she sobbed my father's name repeatedly. My mother's cries, etched in pain, made my heart ache. I understood then that I hadn't allowed myself to fully comprehend what had happened to our lives until that moment. I wanted to run from that room, screaming, but I had to be strong for her.

My mother's body went limp in my arms as I was hugging her to me. I had noticed in the midst of her anguish that her breathing had grown labored, but thought it was due to her grief. Panic engulfed me as I cried out for help. Somewhere between seconds and an eternity Dr. Cullen was next me, taking my mothers pale, listless body from my arms. Fear must have shown on my face because that's all I felt.

"Edward your mother is dehydrated," he said evenly. "She's also very fatigued. Between the two, I need to take her."

Nothing on his face read that he was lying, however, the color of my mother's flesh, the dark circles surrounding her eyes and her strained breathing told me all that I needed to know. I had been with her all day and knew that she was progressively getting worse. I could see the signs that I chose to ignore earlier, believing the excuses that I allowed to occupy my mind. The same excuses Dr. Cullen was giving me right now. Maybe it was just fatigue and dehydration as the doctor had said, but my heart didn't dare to hope. I had lost one parent today, could God be cruel enough to take the other so quickly?

I nodded slightly, trepidation written on my face. I looked at him with pleading eyes, afraid to utter any words. "I'll keep you informed Edward." His smooth, graceful voice attempted to soothe me. "Don't worry." I tried to swallow the lump that had returned to my throat as I watched Dr. Cullen carry my mother away from me. Stopping at the door he turned to me and said, "I should tell you, you've been quarantined. You know you can't leave, right?"

"Why would I leave?" I said, my voice barely audible. "My family's here." I looked at him through glazed over eyes.

A troubled look took over his face as he nodded. "Get some rest Edward. You look exhausted." With that, my mother was gone and I was left to wait, alone.

I walked to the bed and lay down. Rest. _How am I supposed to rest? _The thought of my angel came into my mind. I closed my eyes and willed myself to fall asleep. I didn't want to sleep; I needed to sleep. I needed to dream, to see _her_. I never needed her to come to me so badly.

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**End Notes:**

**1.** So first off I want to mention that I said in the beginning when I started this story I wanted it to be as close to accurate as I could get. I have been praised for my research and my commitment to keeping it accurate.... so with that said, I have been informed of inaccuracies that I have made. Now it's only fair that I share these inaccuracies: **A).** Antibiotics were not discovered until 1928 (although there were very similar methods being used in China for thousands of years, they still weren't referred to as antibiotics)... so that's a big ole boo-boo for me! I kick myself for that because I didn't look up and see when antibiotics came about, when I researched the diseases they just always mentioned them so I went with it. What's funny is, I never intended on using the term! I don't know anything about medicine so I wanted to keep as little medical out as possible! *sigh* **B).** The story begins in 1918, electric starters for cars weren't invented until 1919, so there was a hand crank and dear impatient Edward wouldn't have waited for that old fuddy-dud Hastings to do it!  
**2.** Okay so now to the forshadowing that I happened upon (in case you missed it!) Edward isn't patient (except when it comes to Bella) so, although it's kinda cruel, making him an impatient person that is now forever "stuck" into just existing is just ironic. However, as a human, life couldn't go fast enough and as a vampire time will have little meaning for him.. so I just liked it. The next one is him liking pain. We all know he refers to himself as a masochist so why not have him start out that way!! Lastly, he got comfort from his mother humming a lullaby. That was probably my favorite part of this whole chapter because I wrote how I feel when something goes to hell.... I really just want my mommy :)  
**3.** Seperate beds... seems silly to us, but that's how most families were up until post WW2. I thought it was cute is all... so it may or may not be accurate!  
**4.** I describe Carlisle as wearing a light blue shirt even though during those times most everyone wore drab colors because of the war. I took some creative licensing because I just really really really liked the way Peter Fascinelli (Carlisle) looked in the movie when he came into the ER... so that was my little homage to that! (Really liked it!)  
**5.** Chapter 5 is done... HOWEVER I will be waiting a few days to post it, trying to give myself a jump start on 6 because I have a feeling that one is going to be another long chapter!  
**6.** I've been meaning to do this each time I do end notes: I want to give credit to the overall presentation of the way the story is set up to Oxymoronic8. Hers was the first fanfiction I read on FF(dot)net and so I just really liked how she did her set up and so I have, er, borrowed it! On that note, I would like to recommend her story! It's AU, great character write ups and fantastic plot! It's called Innocent, Vigilant, Ordinary. I will be recommending other fanfics that I like and I would love to have recommendations given to me!!  
**7.** Thanks again guys!! This has been a lot I know and I'm sorry! Thanks for waiting and reading and please come back for 5!! (I kinda like 5!)


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Notes:**

So I can't really say anything too much about this chapter, to begin with that is... I'll leave it for the end notes. However, I will say this is the shortest chapter to date and it's going to seem all the shorter because chapter 4 was the longest, lol. So hopefully you don't feel too gipped for having to wait. But I'm a little apprehensive about posting this, only because I don't know if it's been properly checked over (I'm really bad at spelling and grammar and I have **TWO** people read and check my stuff... sometimes things still get through, but I love them all the same!! ;)) I know I sent it to them... but if corrections were made on it, then I just saved it as it was labeled and called it a day. Because when I have a chapter ready to go, I rename it in my laptop... and this one wasn't renamed... and I'm too impatient to wait 9 hours to make sure (i kind of like this chapter)... so I apologize if this one isn't quite up to par :) But it's a short chapter, so if I'm going to make that mistake it should be on this one!! LOL... okay so, play nice!! *cringes*

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**Chapter 5**

I couldn't help but stare into her eyes. Dark, deep and inquisitive. They seemed to ask my soul questions that I wasn't sure if I even knew theanswers to. Those eyes, oh how I knew them well. I was their prisoner everytime they were cast on me; willing and eager to be held at their mercy.

"Edward."

My name floated along the air in a smooth, velvet whisper. My angel spoke? In the countless number of times I had dreamt of her, never had she spoken before. This was different, everything was different. Very different.

A smile danced across her perfect lips, making my breath catch and causing a warmth to grow along the base of my throat. I felt the muscles in my neck constrict as our locked gaze continued to intensify the air between us. There was a magnetism there that had never been present before. I didn't understand it and it was causing a twinge of fear to slowly ripple through me.

With every passing moment, that twinge of fear increased and began to engulf my entire being. My heart mercilessly threw itself at my rib cage in rapid succession, while the air that exited my lungs burned a path up my throat in rough, jagged breaths.

"Edward. Can you hear me?"

The velvet whisper had returned. It was the same as before, but it was _wrong_. Everything was different and wrong. The whisper, the voice, though faintly familiar, was out of place. This was the dream that I had had many times and yet everything about it was wrong. For one, I knew it was a dream. I had never been this consciously aware of myself. It was as if I were awake while sleeping. And the whisper, while angelic in it's own respect was not the voice of _my _angel. I simply knew this, even though I had never heard her speak.

It was then that I noticed that the fear I had felt only moments before was gone, that it had been consumed by something else. An urge; no, not an urge, but a total and complete _need_ of her. The dream continued on in it's normal path as she slowly edged closer to me, with her eyes closing and her lips waiting in anticipation until, the all too familiar scene changed. That need for her was changing it. That magnetism that I did not understand was beginning to feel animalistic and natural. That warmth which had been at the base of my throat now felt like fire and had spread down into the pit of my stomach and through the length of my arms.

I grimaced in pain as my body boiled. And still, the dream continued on. She was so close to me now. I leaned into her and was met with the most delicious smell. It didn't take long for me to register that _she_ was that smell. Wanting more, I continued to lean in, bringing myself closer and closer to her. Her mouth was pursed ever so slightly, searching for mine. However, as I brought myself nearer to her, my lips pulled back and formed a sneering smile as I faintly heard the palpitations of her heart. Her eyes were closed... trusting... unsuspecting....

A scream of agonizing pain ripped from my body as the fire completely consumed me. It felt as though I had acid coursing through my veins, devouring me from the inside out. I opened my mouth to cry out again, but found myself instead gasping for air as my heart beat quickened to a frantic pace. My rigid body writhed in pain; my teeth mashing down upon each other as the taut muscles in my neck begged for alleviation. My fingernails dug into the soft flesh of my palms as my knuckles, white and aching, stayed clenched into tight fists.

And still the dream continued on. Never had it gone beyond this point and due to my very real physical pain I was unable to make it continue on any further, but yet I remained within the dream. Once again, there was a change, a difference. The clarity in which I usually dreamt was starting to dull and fade. There was a haze surrounding my angel.

As another tortured cry escaped my lips, she opened her eyes. Those eyes, usually so vivid and distinct were now veiled and dim. I couldn't understand why she seemed to be fading away right before me. Was it cause the dream was changing? Was the unknown torment that I was going through tearing me from my all too familiar angelic vision? It didn't feel like I was waking up, more like I was sinking further into whatever state I was in.

The more my dream began to fade away, the more aware I became of every aspect of myself. My heart still slammed itself ruthlessly against my ribs and my breaths were becoming increasingly more difficult to take in. The excruciating pain was still engulfing my body. Every muscle had tightened and constricted due to this, however, there was no fatigue to accompany it. My skin began to feel as though it had been encased in a shell; hard and unforgiving to motion and cold as ice. The frozen sensation encapsulating the outside of my body scalded me to my very core. I was burning, that much was certain. How could I be dying from flames on the inside and ice on the out? I opened my mouth, ready to scream out, only to have the flesh of my cheeks tear from my immobile skin.

"Save me!" I cried out desperately through gritted teeth to the paling vision of my angel as she vanished before me.

"I am," whispered the velvet voice.

_NO! Not you! Not you! Her! I need her to save me! _I screamed in my mind.

Another wave of pain took me over. My heart began to seize as the pace of its beats still continued to quicken. I sucked in a ragged breath, the act of living was becoming ever more difficult as I found myself begging to die. If death would end this agony, take me away from this excruciating hell that I was stuck in, then I welcomed it with open arms. And yet, the pain remained. It continued on for what seemed like an eternity, slowly killing me, but not giving me the actual relief of death. As I laid there feeling myself give up and the life starting to leave my body, I wondered why my angel had left me to suffer alone. To die alone.

"I'm sorry Edward," the velvet voice whispered. "The pain will be over soon," it paused. "It will all be over soon."

With a last violent convulsion of my body, followed by a final silent cry, the air exited my lungs and my heart lay still within my chest; it's beats forever ceasing. With the echo of my pain dissipating, my body stilled and I began to feel nothing.

I wish I had known then that I would never dream again.

* * *

**End Notes:**

**1.** I'm hoping this read the way I wanted it to. I'm too involved in the story to know for sure. SO... I'll tell you how I hoped it read! Chapter 4 ends with Edward wanting to sleep so he can dream... well he does start dreaming. I slightly altered the dream from chapter 1 (because even recurring dreams aren't exactly the same!) but it wasn't _that_ altered. However, almost immediately it's different cause... *gasp* "causing a warmth to grow along the base of my throat. I felt the muscles in my neck constrict"- he was bit and he was just starting to feel it, but he doesn't know it, so his body uses it and thats where the dream really starts to alter... so there was a hint, well that and Carlisle saying his name and him being like... "that's so not her!" So the dream continues on as usual... from "her" end, anyways... but as his body starts to change it alters his perception of the dream... and then once he's in full on pain, the dream starts to fade as the last bits of his life leave his body... the dream ends before he's fully transformed... but there's not enough left of him to maintain all parts of being human... heart beat and breath are main priority, so the dream goes... and little does he know then, that he'd never be able to dream of her again. (i feel so mean!)  
**2.** I had always intended him to change while he was unaware of it happening... originally chapters 1, 3, 5 were going to start out with dream sequences... this was actually the beginning to chapter 3, the slightly altered, scary dream... I only had 1 paragraph and I took that one paragraph and stretched it (the paragraph ended with her eyes closed "closed... trusting... unsuspecting....") and created it as chapter 5... then I decided 3 dream sequences were too much and tossed some ideas around with one of my proofers and she suggested the comparison game in chapter 3! So that worked out well!  
**3.** So this chapter has been ready for a while! I may start posting songs/artists that I listened to while writing... just to give you an idea of "where" I was when I was writing... so this chapter would have to be the band "RED" and the song "Already Over, part 2" (the part 2 is very important! part 1 and 2 are the same exact song, but part 2 is much slower and kind of haunting) however, technically it would probably be considered a love song/break up song... it's just very haunting and beautiful :)  
**4.** Chapter 6 isn't anywhere near being ready *hides*  
**5.** Sorry for the shortness of the chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it!!! I'll get busy working on chapter 6!!  
**6.** Oh and if at any time you get confused by something I'm attempting to convey and the notes don't cover it, please just ask or let me know that it was confusing... I'm afraid of that with this chapter :) I'm very open to critique/suggestions so don't be afraid!


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Notes:**

First of all, sorry that this has taken so long! omE this chapter was about to be the death of me! Once again, not my favorite chapter in the world, although there are parts I'm proud of. There was A LOT of things I needed to get conveyed here and I tried and tried to get them all in. With that said, I didn't succeed... but that's not saying I failed. Once again the outline I set for myself twisted a little... just a wee bit, pushing some things to chapter 7... possibly chapter 8. (I could have fit them in here, but this chapter was already so long, even longer then chapter 4) I will talk more about this chapter in the end notes, as to not give anything away. However, let me warn you... there is confusion in this chapter. Chapter 5 brought us Edward's turning... and with his turning comes certain abilities; abilities he doesn't know he has. I got confused WRITING this damn thing, so I can't imagine you not getting confused reading it... i tried to make it clear if it were spoken or thought and if it were thought then by who... *sigh* It was very confusing and took a while, hopefully I don't confuse you guys TOO much (a little is okay, because poor Edward is confused) ;)

* * *

**Chapter 6**

I lay there, feeling the pain recede as an all-embracing numbness took me over. No, not numb, but something close to that. My body tingled as though it searched for sensation. However it felt as though sensation encompassed me, consuming me. I could feel everything around me; the poke of a spring in the mattress beneath me, the fabric of my clothing as it lay on my unmoving body and the air that surrounded me. Not a breeze, just the air. It was as though it had thickened and some how become tangible. It was neither warm nor cold, just present.

I became suddenly aware of just how much my body had stilled. I felt no urge to move. No involuntary muscle twitches. No need to open my eyes to see what was going on around me. There was no fatigue. No discomfort. There was nothing. It felt as though I could have laid there forever, completely still for all eternity. The world would continue on its normal course and I would exist amongst it, but not truly a part of it.

_So this is death,_ I thought to myself.

It was then that I noticed, even with my eyes remaining closed, that I wasn't alone in the room. There was no sound, no movement being made. However, I could feel eyes on me, studying my motionless form. This unyielding gaze penetrated through me, casting a sense of unease that spread throughout my entire body. It was in that moment that I felt a heightened awareness of myself.

Never have I been so mindful of my senses. My nostrils filled with a hundred different scents at once. Wood, paint, linen, grass... all familiar smells that were intensified to the point that I was forced to wonder if I had ever truly smelled them before. But there was something else. A sweet aroma; a soft combination of honey and lilac.

My mind moved from, but didn't forget, my newly enlightened sense of smell as I became aware of a familiar noise; running water? It sounded like a steady, yet small stream was flowing right next to me. The babbling of the brook as water slid along over rocks, following it's course down the creek, held my attention. It was soothing in a way I had never noticed before. Slowly, other sounds came into focus. The stirring of leaves on a tree as they danced around from a gentle breeze. The faint, continuous croaking of a bullfrog. The rapid, rhythmic thumping of a heartbeat.

My concentrated senses adjusted to the right of my body, as the slight sound of rustling clothes accompanied the soft scent of honey and lilac as it drew closer.

"Edward?" A smooth, graceful voice whispered. "Can you hear me?"

_Yes_, I thought. _I can hear everything. Absolutely everything._

"Edward, open your eyes," he urged. "If you can hear me, open your eyes Edward."

Slowly, I let my lids slide open. Bright light surrounded me, but my eyes didn't need to adjust from the darkness they had just been cloaked in. There was no squinting or pain; only clarity of which I had never experienced before. _Is this Heaven? _Particles of dust that floated along the air were clear as crystal to my eyes. The ceiling directly above me was whiter then any white I had ever seen before. I could make out the bristle marks of the paint brushes from when the ceiling had been painted.

_I'd forgotten how red the eyes would be, _he whispered aghast.

Hearing this, I turned and met the gaze of Dr. Cullen. Just like with everything else, it was like I had never really seen him before. His features were still attractive, even more so then before. And even though he still looked as though he were made of porcelain, his skin looked softer; it almost seemed to gleam. His eyes weren't the gold I expected to see, but an immense black. My mind became hazy as I tried to search my memories, desperately attempting to recall if his eyes had in fact been gold or if I had been mistaken. My attention was drawn to something else, something I couldn't figure out how I possibly missed before; Dr. Cullen had a massive scar on his neck. Albeit he wore no tie and his shirt was unbuttoned, exposing his throat more fully; however, the sheer size of it reached beyond where his collar would end, making the scar visible even while dressed properly. _How could I have missed that before? _It looked as though he had been savagely mauled by an animal of some sorts. However, this didn't deter from his overall attractiveness. Ripping my attention from his healed over wound, I brought my eyes back to his. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

"You'll adjust to them," he said softly. "It takes a little bit of time to properly adjust to everything, but don't worry you will."

_Must be blood shot_, I thought. My mind became aware of an intense burning that began to form at the back of my throat, bringing the excruciating pain I had just gone through to the forefront of my memory. I sat up quickly studying my hands and arms, looking for scorch marks on my skin, searching for any signs of the fire that had tormented me. I saw none, but I could not avert my eyes from my skin. Though there was nothing to indicate I had been burned, my skin had indeed changed. It looked smooth and soft with all imperfections gone. There were no lines or scars, no veins visible under the surface. The color was different as well. I had always been on the fair side, but now my flesh had a more pallid, white hue to it.

I repeatedly clenched and unclenched my fists as I noticed that the numbness was still present. My fingertips tingled as though my hand had fallen asleep. However, I felt no movement in the joints of my fingers no matter how hard I squeezed my fist closed. As I did this, I noticed my knuckles didn't appear whiter than the rest of my skin. I tightened my fist even more, trying to get the skin that was overlaying my bones to pale. I continued to draw my fingers in tighter and tighter with the color staying unchanged. However, in doing this I also noticed something else; there was no pain. My fingers should have ached by this time. The muscles in my arms should have cried out in mercy. But, there was nothing. In fact, I felt stronger the longer I held my fist shut.

My attention returned to the burning sensation in my throat. I looked to Dr. Cullen, confusion evident on my face. I opened my mouth to speak, to ask about the fire that I could not seem to swallow. But a realization stopped me before I could utter any words. I could feel my eyebrows furrow as my eyes moved from the young doctors face, to my still clenched fist and then back again. The smooth, soft skin with its pallid hue of my hand was the same as his. I couldn't understand it. I was sure, positive even, that he had been much lighter than me. Nothing made sense. My memory once again became hazy as I tried to search it for verification that I was not wrong. However, thinking became near impossible as the fire in my throat continued to rage.

"My throat burns," I finally managed to say while swallowing roughly. I unclenched my fist and rubbed the front of my neck, trying to alleviate the pain within from the outside.

Dr. Cullen looked down and began nodding slowly before he returned his eyes to mine. They were filled with pain as he spoke. "You'll need to feed soon."

_What an odd choice of words_, I thought to myself. However his statement seemed to trigger something in me. I became aware of a hollow feeling that was taking over my body, as though I were empty. A full body hunger was devouring me. More confusion gathered on my face. "Feed?" I asked as though the notion of eating were foreign to me. As I thought of food, random things I was accustomed to eating, a feeling of something beyond revoltion consumed me.

I looked away, disgust showing on my face as the thought of food lingered in my head. It was then that I noticed I was no longer in the same room as when I had fallen asleep. In fact, I couldn't be sure If I were even still in the hospital. It looked more like a one roomed cottage. There was the bed I laid on with a dresser next to it. Above the dresser was an antique wrought iron mirror. And across the room was a small table with four chairs surrounding it. There was a vase filled with daisies in the middle of the table. Everything about the room seemed generic and cold, almost as if it were merely for show. Everything, except the paintings that adorned the walls. They were colorful, beautiful. There was almost an essence of life to them.

_It's going to be hard to control him his first time. There's no guarantee that he won't follow his instincts. _

My head snapped away from my quick scanning of the room and back to Dr. Cullen. "What?!" I was beginning to get annoyed. He wasn't making any sense and it was adding to my perplexity. My reaction brought a slight look of confusion upon his face as well. Aggitated, I stood up from the bed and began pacing about the room. I became more puzzled as I came to the realization that I didn't recognize anything within the walls in which I stood. The burning in my throat once again intensified as the emptiness that engulfed my body deepened. Again, I brought my hand to my neck and tried to swallow down the flames.

"It'll get worse the longer we wait," he said softly. "It'll be harder to keep yourself from hurting someone."

My full attention once more fell on the doctor. I narrowed my eyes at him as my irritation was reaching it's peak. "Hurt someone?! Why would I..." I stopped, my frustration coming to a head. Anger filled me as his words found their home in my mind. "Why would I hurt someone?! You're not making any sense!" I yelled at him as I raked my fingers through my hair, attempting to get some grasp of the situation, my eyes still scanning over the room. Not knowing where I was was not helping with my annoyance.

_Oh God, he doesn't know. He doesn't know. Of course he doesn't know! Why would he know? _

Dr. Cullen's horrified voice filled my mind making me bring my eyes back to him, yet again. His words, his expression... none of it made sense. _ Where's my mother? Where are the nurses? Why am I not in the hospital? _All these questions ran through my mind, but my mouth opened to ask the one that demanded to be answered first. "_What_ don't I know?"

With my eyes still locked on the doctors, I watched as he narrowed his gaze at me. _Did I say that out loud?_

The confusion of his voice didn't quell my irritation. Actually it made it worse. It was as if we weren't having the same conversation. Unable to contain my anger any longer, I began shouting at him. "What?! Stop doing that! Stop it! Of course you said it out loud. I heard you! You're not making any sense!" I began my pacing again; my strides deliberate, yet frantic. "_What_ don't I know?" I repeated my earlier question with vehemence as I stared down the doctor, my demand for answers becoming more than apparent. "Answer me!"

_Edward._

"Answer me, dammit!"

_Edward_. My mind filled with his soft voice as he said my name again.

"What?!" I screamed at him.

_Look at my mouth_. Instinctively my eyes fell to his lips. _Edward, can you hear me? _His words filled my head, while his lips stayed stationary in front of my gaze.

It took a moment for me to process what was happening before me. How was I able to hear him speak when his lips weren't moving? I couldn't even begin to fathom what was going on. The answer became clear. "It's a trick. It has to be a trick," I repeated, shaking my head feverishly. "It's a trick!"

_What have I done?_

I watched again as his lips remained still, but his voice became present in my mind. "Stop that!" I shouted, covering my ears and turning away. "Stop it!" I felt like I was losing my mind. Nothing was making sense. No questions had been answered, there were only more added to them. My mind was swimming, incapable of comprehending what was going on. I needed to know; I needed to understand. I needed answers. I spun around so I was once again facing the young doctor. "_What_ don't I know?!" I repeated my question through gritted teeth.

Dr. Cullen's face was pained; anguish coated his eyes. Slowly he let his gaze move from me to a mirror that hung on the wall across the room. _He'll understand faster if he sees. _More words from unmoving lips filled my head. "Look in the mirror." His voice was soft, troubled.

I went to the wall in a second, moving faster than I even knew I was capable of going. I needed to see what was going to help me understand, what was going to give me the answers I so longed for. As I looked into the reflective glass I grew more confused. It was a mirror and yet I couldn't see my reflection. Instead I saw a porcelain statue with an almost opalescent sheen to it. There were no imperfections to the face; no lines, wrinkles or scratches of any kind. However, when my gaze fell to the neck, two sets of teeth marks caught my eye. They were scars, that much was certain. One set was deeper, more pronounced. Where as the other was far more shallow, more hesitant. The crescent shaped impressions were the only blemishes to be seen. Other than those, the statuesque young man was perfect.

I had only spent a few moments staring at what should have been my reflection before I saw the eyes in the mirror. Deep, garnet red eyes stared back at me. They followed mine, doing as I did. It was in those unnaturally colored orbs that I realized I had not been looking at some piece of chiseled art, but that the porcelain statue was in fact me. Or whatever I had come to be.

Aghast, I staggered back, away from the mirror with the cursed reflection. As my body slammed into the wall on the other side of the room, I threw my gaze at the young doctor who stared at me with anguish in his eyes. "What is this? What's going on?" Horror dripped from my voice. "What have you done to me?!"

"Edward," he said as he began to move closer to me. "I need to tell you something. I need to explain-"

"Explain?! Explain _what_?" I yelled at him. "Are you going to explain to me why my skin is glowing white or why my eyes are blood red?! How about why I can hear a bird flying outside?! Or maybe you're going to explain why no matter how tight I close my fist I don't feel any pain?! Why I don't feel _anything_ at all?!"

_This is going to be harder than I thought. He's not taking it well. Of course he's not taking it well; how should he take it?_

"Stop it!" I cried out as I threw my hands over my ears again, attempting to silence his unspoken words. "Stop it now!" I ground my hands into the sides of my head. "Why don't you tell me about that?! Tell me why I can hear what you're thinking!" I screamed in a frenzy.

"I can't."  
"What's wrong with me?!" Pain and fear engulfed me. I pushed away from the wall and returned to my previous action of pacing about the room.

"Edward please. I need you to be calm. I need you to listen so I can tell you, explain to you, about what you've become so you-"

"What I've _become?" _I asked dismayed. And there it was, verification that something was indeed seriously wrong. I stopped my pacing and paused in front of the small table, placing my hands on the back of one of the wooden chairs. My shoulders fell defeatedly as I attempted to ready myself for whatever the doctor was going to tell me. A memory of the image of what the mirror reflected flashed in my mind. I turned my head, trying to escape the picture that lay within my own thoughts. "What _have_ I become?"

"There's a name for what we are," he began to explain.

"We?"

"You, me... and so many others like us." His voice was calm and even.  
"I don't understand..." Confusion had laid full claim to me. "What _name?_"

Dr. Cullen opened his mouth to speak, to reveal the name he had alluded to just moments earlier, only to have no sound come out. Whether it was intentional or not, his hesitation didn't stop his smooth voice from entering my mind and saying the word that would become the very essence of my existence.

_Vampire._

I stared at him with blank eyes; waiting for him to crack a smile, or give some indication that he was simply joking. I waited for him to tell me something that I could understand, something that I would be able to grasp the concept of. But, no words were spoken and his voice did not fill my mind. So I sat there completely still, staring with void eyes and waiting for some form of normality to envelope me.

"Edward did you..." he hesitated, unsure of whether or not to continue. "...hear me?" I continued to stare at him, my eyes remaining unresponsive to his voice. "Edward?" His tone was apprehensive as were the slow movements he made around me. He moved slightly closer to where I stood, but stayed within my direct line of sight. "Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

I kept my vacant eyes fixed on him as my mind mulled over that single word that he had yet to vocalize. _Vampire. _Ridiculous. Incomprehensible. Nothing was making sense at all. Vampires didn't exist. They weren't real. They were stories; stories told to scare children. There had to be another explanation to everything; my newly enlightened senses, my changed appearance, the lack of pain or feeling throughout my body; save for that inextinguishable fire in my throat. There had to be some clarification of what was going on, but what?

"You're lying," I whispered, but there was no conviction in my voice.

"Edward," he paused. "Your heart isn't beating." Instinctively my right hand cupped the left side of my rib cage, searching for the faint thump that should be there. Nothing. My hand moved across the skin of my chest, seeking evidence that he was wrong. Dr. Cullen moved closer to me as he continued to speak softly. "Blood is not flowing in your veins and yet your walking around; your talking. Your skin is whiter than you remember it being. Your senses are stronger than they have ever been before. And I'm sure that the burning in your throat is getting to be unbearable."

He was right, with every inhalation the fire seemed to grow. However, it was then that I was struck with a realization that refuted his claims. "Why am I breathing?" My eyes bore into his, demandingly.

"Instinct, partly." He said calmly. "You need oxygen in your lungs to speak. And it's impossible to smell without inhaling. Scent is going to be your best and worst ally."

"Why worst?" Confusion crept into my features, furrowing my brow.

"Depending on your..." there was a pause before an incomprehensible flow of words flooded my mind as Dr. Cullen searched for what he wanted to say. "...methods of survival," he finally concluded. My brow furrowed deeper, still unable to understand what the doctor was trying to tell me. "Much of what you 'know' about our kind is myth." He sighed deeply before he spoke again. "However, blood is an unfortunate necessity. We need it. That is why your throat burns. It's your instincts making themselves known."

I felt the look of horror over take my face as his words found their way into my mind. I shook my head slowly, keeping my gaze locked on his. "I won't... I won't! I'll let myself die. I won't _drink_ blood!" Anger consumed me.

"You will." His voice was so even, so sure. "You may try to fight it, but you'll fail. Your instincts to survive are too strong. The longer you go, the hungrier you allow yourself to get, the more likely it becomes that you will hurt someone."

"You've turned me into a killer... a monster." I said, exasperated.

"No. You don't have to be. It's your choice."

"You're telling me that I need blood. That I'll _crave_ blood. And then you tell me I have a choice? _ What _choice?!"

"Animals," he answered. "You can hunt animals. You're faster than them; stronger than them." He assured me. "In time, with practice, you'll have control over your urges. But until then, you can't underestimate the draw that human blood will have over you."

I felt the vacancy return to my eyes as my mind attempted to absorb everything I had just been told. It was unreal, all of it. Things like this just don't exist. For a very short moment I had myself convinced that I had lost my mind and I was stuck in a horrible nightmare. However, I was sure this was beyond the worst dream I had ever had. My mind once again became hazy as I tried to remember my nightmares.

"Edward?" The smooth voice of Dr. Cullen invaded my thoughts. He sounded concerned and I'm sure the blank expression on my face was the cause of it. I didn't care. I ignored him. I was ignoring the insanity that he was trying to make me believe. My life no longer existed and yet I remained. I was not alive. My heart no longer beat beneath my chest. But here I stand feeling a burn in the back of my throat, telling me that blood is needed. That I needed to kill so I could survive; survive when I shouldn't exist. "Edward?" The sound of my name brought me back into the unnatural reality I had become apart of. As the emptiness in my eyes receded, I allowed myself to focus on the face in front of me. Dr. Cullen's eyes were filled with fear as he stared at me. "Say something."

It was then that I realized that I had been wrong when I had initially opened my eyes; I wasn't in Heaven. "Am I in Hell?" I whispered faintly, noticing for the first time how my voice flowed as smoothly as Dr. Cullen's.

"No, Edward," he said softly, shaking his head. "You're not in Hell."

"Then why are you doing this to me?" I let my gaze fall from his and onto the vase of daisies in the middle of the table.

"There was little time." His voice was remorseful and filled with urgency as he moved closer to me. "You got so sick... so sick and so fast. Much faster then your parents." He shook his head and pressed his lips together. "I left you to rest, I hadn't been gone that long, but when I came back, you were unconscious. You were so sick... so sick... and slipping away so fast and all I could think of was the request your mother had-"

My head snapped up, shock and concern filled my voice as I interrupted him. "My mother?" Guilt consumed me as I realized that I had not asked of her until that moment. I had been so engrossed in myself that it hadn't even occurred to me to question the doctor of my mother's health. "How is she? Where is she?" I asked quickly.

Pain replaced the fear that had been in his eyes when I had last looked into them. "Edward," he began, apprehension returning to his voice. "After your mother woke up, she wouldn't rest, she wouldn't be calm. And so I brought you into the room with her. She tried to take care of you. There wasn't enough nurses and doctors and..." Dr. Cullen stopped and tried to recompose himself. "Your mother... she figured out what I was... somehow." The anguish in his eyes intensified and I could feel my body stiffen as a feeling of trepidation encased me. "And she asked me to save you. To save you in a way that only I could." His eyes fell from mine as he shook his head slowly. "I don't know how she knew, but I am convinced that she did." He cast a soft smile at me before he spoke again. "She was so worried about you. She loved you so much."

There was a loud crack as the back of the wooden chair I had been leaning on fractured in my hand. I clenched my fist tightly around the pieces that remained in my hands and felt the wood give way and bend to my will. I continued to tighten my grip until there was only a fine pulp left in my palm. My arms dropped to my sides as dust, all that remained from the wooden chunks, fell through my fingers like sand.

_Was... loved.... _both were past tense.

I grabbed the vase of daisies off of the table and threw them across the room, watching as the glass crashed against the wall, splintering into a hundred pieces. His words echoed in my mind. _Was_; she _was_ worried. _Loved_; she had _loved_ me. But not anymore.

A growl bellowed from me as I slid my fingertips to the underside of table and jerked up quickly, sending the table flipping end over end to the other side of the small cottage. _Was_. I kicked the half demolished chair out of my way and grabbed one of the others, snapping it as though it were a twig, sending the pieces flying behind me. _Loved_. I moved to the small bed, picked up the mattress and threw it. I watched as it bounced across the floor before landing with a solid thud. I walked to the dresser and threw it down to the floor, screaming the entire time. I kicked it lightly and watched as it slammed into the opposite wall as though it weighed nothing at all. My chest rose and fell in steady rythme from my out cries; my heavy breathing mocking my dead lungs.

Motion in my peripheral vision brought my attention to the wrought iron mirror that had been hung above the dresser. I moved to it, ready to destroy it too, when my new reflection stopped me. Those garnet eyes stared back at me, through me. The air I didn't need to breathe halted in my throat. I wanted to look away, but I was unable to complete the action. The image in front of me was someone other than who I had been. However, try as I might, I wasn't able to fully remember how I had looked before.

I moved closer to the mirror, placing my hands on the wall by either side of it, my eyes studying the figure before me. I already knew my skin and eyes had changed, but what about my lips? Were they always this red? I let my mouth fall open so to inspect them, only to notice the gleaming white of my teeth. I pulled my lips back into a sneer, looking for signs of fangs, but there were none. However, they were straighter than before, or at least I thought. My eyes moved up to my hair. It was such an odd color; like bronze out in the sunlight. _Had it always looked like this?_ I ran my hand through the peculiar shaded strands, watching as my locks fell perfectly disheveled back into place. I did this a few more times. No matter what my hair did, it looked as though that was how it was supposed to be. _That's different. I'm sure of that,_ I thought to myself.

A faint memory of my mother fixing my hair came into my mind, tearing my eyes away from the impostor that stared out from my reflection. I hung my head, afraid to ask the question that I had been forced to ask about my father. I didn't dare to harbor a hope that the answer would be any different. "My mother?" My voice was so low, I wasn't sure if it were even audible.

Dr. Cullen moved cautiously towards me. His gentle voice was filled with concern as he spoke. "I'm so sorry Edward."

I brought my forehead to the mirror and allowed it rest there. I waited for the burning in my eyes to start. Waited for my vision to cloud over with my tears. I could feel my sobs in my throat, but there was no moisture in my eyes to match it. I brought my head up and met the young doctors eyes in the reflection. "I can't cry?"

"No," he said softly as he shook his head ever so slightly.

A small cynical smile came to my lips, turning up one side of my mouth. "Why didn't you let me die?"

"I couldn't."

"You should have." I snarled. "I don't want to be like this. A soulless monster, forced to feed off of the blood of others to survive." I broke the eye contact between us as I came to a horrible realization. "I _am_ in Hell." Disgust covered my face as I met his eyes again.

A troubled looked came over Dr. Cullen's face, as his voice entered my mind. _Oh God, what have I done?_

"God?" I laughed sardonically. My eyes returned to reflection in front of me before I met his gaze in the mirror. "God doesn't reside _here_."

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**End Notes:**

**1.** Okay so I got some, er, concerned pms/reviews about chapter 5... No one said anything negative (thank you by the way) but there was plenty of "I wish we could have seen..." or "what about.." and do you know how PLEASED I was?? LOL, I know that sounds odd, because I sent out so many responses basically saying "trust me, please!" However, in getting the response that I got it made me feel like "wow, they're REALLY _apart_ of my story now!" But anyways, the reason I did what I did with chapter five was simple... it's really hard to add surprise to a story when the basic outline is already known. So I've decided to give myself more work and self-induced stress by trying to be as accurate to the book as possible, but yet, keep you guessing about parts you know are coming :) I love a challenge ;) So hopefully you all forgive me now and please, just trust me!! *hug*  
**2.** Here's a reiteration of this point....... I ADORE CARLISLE!!! And obviously Edward as well... with that said, please don't hate me for what I'm doing to the both of them. I tried to imagine how I would react if I went through what Edward went through (losing his dad, watching his mom get sick, feeling tortured by fire, being told that you've become something you were sure could never possibly exist...) and I just didn't see myself being all calm about any of it. I've only read the series once (blashemy i know!) but I never got the feel that there was too much conflict involved with Edward being changed... i could be wrong... i DO need to reread them but *pausing to brag*I refuse to touch my copy of Twilight, because it is signed by quite a few people in the cast *unpause* With Carlisle being, well, Carlisle... I imagined him feeling tormented and feeling responsible for Edwards anguish, although (later)he doesn't regret doing it. To me, he is the heart and soul of the entire series.  
**3.** If you didn't like chapter 6... or the way the characters, particularly Edward, developed in this chapter... you might want to stop reading this story then. It's only going to get worse... after all you can't have a teenager rebel out of the blue, it's gotta build up to it. And you can see it building. You're going to want to smack Edward... and I don't want you to get mad at me for making you want to smack him, so I'm just warning you now! lol :)  
**4.** I hope you were able to follow the dialogue okay... there was, I think, 3 different conversations and only 2 people. (The convo Carlisle thinks he's having with Edward; The convo Edward thinks he's having with Carlisle and the Convo that is happening from those two separate convos... i'm confused writing this!) ... oh and then you toss in Edward's thoughts! However I wanted it be a bit confusing, because Edward is confused and annoyed and his questions aren't being answered... But yeah so hopefully you were able to follow it okay. I tried to put, as often as it made sense, if it were Carlisle's thoughts or Edward's... i tried... that's all I can say at this point lol :) I stayed up all night writing that bit and it drove me a lil bonkers... it was hilarious :)  
**5.** Chapter 7 isn't started......... at all........ not even the outline. And it's going to be a bit before I have time to start it. Because *pause to brag again* I am a nerd and I'm going to the twlight convention in San Francisco this weekend and I won't have any time to even prepare the outline, much less do any writing *unpause* plus I recently moved into an apartment and I am getting things delivered early next week so i need to make sure the house is properly preped for it... aren't you glad I'm on a tangent right now?? lol back to L/DEM  
**6.** So in End Note 1 I asked you to just trust me... HOWEVER, feel free to bring up any concerns... cause maybe there was something that I missed that I wasn't aware of... after all, i am only human!!  
**7.** Thanks for reading guys, I heart you all... i seriously do! I'm sorry that this took so long... and as much as I hate to say it, my updates, for a while any way, will probably take between 1 to 2 weeks *hides* life is crazy !! :) But thank you again! *hugs*


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Notes:**

Hey guys! Soooo it's been like 2 months since I last updated... first of all, let me apologize for it being so long... I have loads of excuses... all of which are bad!!! I'll explain more about those later... for now, onwards!! So this chapter is not my favorite... I know I say that A LOT, but this one shouldn't even exist, so I kinda pouted about that for a while (half of it should have been in 6 the other half was going to be part of what is now going to be 8) but... it DOES exist and so I need to get over that :) There were parts of this that were like pulling teeth and I'm hoping it flows well enough and doesn't feel rushed. It's pretty much a continuation of Chapter 7... wait... no.. it IS a continuation of 7, it leaves off directly after 7 so you may need to read the end of that one to refresh what's going on... since it's been so freaking long! (sorry again!) Enjoy... and please don't hate me for taking so long!

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**Chapter 7  
**

My reflection continued to sneer at the young doctor. I watched as my words found their mark, causing his already troubled expression to deepen. His eyes fell away from mine as his voice filled my head yet again.

_It was right to save him... wasn't it? But can this... this life that I've forced on him, be considered saving him?_

"No," I answered gruffly. "It can't." I turned from the mirror and faced him. "You actually think you saved me?" I snarled, feeling as my lips pulled back more, showing my disdain. I knew it was cruel of me to torment him. I could hear the anguish in his voice as he continued to battle within his mind as to whether or not he had done the right thing. However, I didn't care. I didn't want this. I didn't ask for it. And I wanted to make damn sure that he knew that.

_So many times I've thought about this; doing just this... and yet I never did. Why now? Why him? It was for him, right? To save him.... or did I selfishly cave into my own loneliness?_

I listened as the civil war inside Dr. Cullen's mind raged on as the beginnings of one crept within mine. I hated what he had done to me; hated what he made me into. However, I couldn't bring myself to fully hate _him_. The remorse he was feeling was for me, for my pain and heartache, causing him to turn on himself. The internal battle he was fighting was ignited by my harsh words. I should have felt bad for this, knowing that he was a good man. A doctor who saw an opportunity to save someone. There was no true regret to his actions and yet he allowed guilt to befall his heart. He blamed himself for not being able to save me in my human form. He blamed himself for me not being fully aware of what had happened to me. He blamed himself for feeling joy in not being alone anymore. He shouldered all the blame for everything that had transpired. And yet, knowing this, I could not allow him any peace. Like a petulant child I pressed on.

"Why me?" I asked roughly. I waited for him to answer me. I waited for his voice to enter my mind in one form or the other. No sound was made, but my question did not go unanswered.

Quick flashes of images entered my mind. Bronze hair, ashen skin, pale lips... and green eyes. My mother's eyes. Wide, frightened, demanding. Dark circles surrounded her piercing green orbs, contrasting abruptly with the chalky blue tint of her skin. _"Save him!" _She pleaded in a way that would make denying her an impossibility. My mind quickly scrambled to understand what I was seeing.

It was my mother's final moments.

Useless breaths remained trapped within my throat as I began absorbing every minute detail. A feeling of unease snaked its way to the back of my mind as I realized that my memories of her were clouded and unclear. She looked different through his eyes and it wasn't just because of how sick she was. I tried desperately to remember her _my_ way. I struggled within myself, attempting to draw upon memories that should have come so easily. However, everything that came to mind was shrouded in doubt. Were my recollections real? The haze within my mind troubled me more than anything else that had happened thus far. Who would I become, if I couldn't remember who I had been?

My mother's final moments left my mind as quickly and suddenly as when they had first appeared. I bore my eyes into Dr. Cullen, fiercely trying to tear the memory from him. My efforts yielded nothing of use, as the only image that filled my head was that of a wall, a brick wall. The young doctor was blocking his thoughts from me, literally hiding them behind a wall.

A spark of rage ignited within me. I lunged at him, grabbing him by the lapels of his opened dress shirt and yanking him towards me. I glared at him while his expression stayed soft, unworried. _How dare he block his thoughts of her? He's taking her away from me again_, I thought bitterly. I was ready to tear him limb from limb; ready to make him rip down that wall he had built around his memories of her.

_You don't need to see her that way. _His velvet voice was filled with concern as it flowed into my mind.

As his words sank in I released his lapels, but held onto the scowl that I cast at him. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that his actions were not malicious. However, this did little to appease my growing anger. I needed someone to blame and his already present guilt made him an easy target.

My animosity for him got a momentary reprieve as I suddenly became very distracted by a delicious scent that filled my nose and reawakened the burning sensation that had been in the back of my throat.

"NO!" Dr. Cullen screamed, grabbing onto me and pushing me towards the wall, attempting to hold me in place.

A euphoric feeling took me over as it moved from my nostrils and down into my throat. Opening my mouth slightly I inhaled deeply, relishing in the sensation that met my tongue, as though I could taste the air that I drew in. It permeated every bit of my being, inside and out, consuming me. I felt my eyes rollover ever so slightly, as the rest of my muscles constricted, a dormant instinct taking control. A light, constant fluttering; a repetitive thump filled my ears, calling to me; tempting me. I didn't know what it was, but the sound of it intensified the burn at the back of my throat.

Within a second I snapped into motion. I headed for the door, easily pushing aside Dr. Cullen, eager to find the source to this all enveloping desire. I didn't know what it was, but I wanted it. No. I _needed_ it. My throat ached as I opened the door, causing the scent to intensify. Standing in the open doorway I paused to inhale again, allowing the deepened aroma to take me over.

Suddenly I was thrust backwards. My body collided with the far wall of the cottage with a loud cracking sound as it gave way to my impenetrable skin. Dr. Cullen closed the door quickly and stood guard before it.

"Move," I commanded.

"Stop breathing Edward," he said evenly.

"What?" I asked, my annoyance showing through.

"You can fight this. Stop breathing."

"Fight what? I just want to go see-"

"What you smell is a human. Stop breathing."

I did as he said while a feeling of disgust took me over. How could I smell a human when I couldn't even see one? And why, even with halted lungs, did my throat continue to burn? The scent still lingered on my tongue, tantalizing me. Weak from desire, I dared another breath, hoping that small surrender would help alleviate the pain that had encompassed my entire body.

As a fresh wave of the ethereal fragrance filled me, I felt all my resistance give way as I made another attempt to leave; my feet gliding gracefully along the floor without any conscious command. I moved quickly, very quickly, to the door. However, Dr. Cullen thwarted my attempt yet again, momentarily pinning me to the wall. I pushed back against him, feeling that I was able to move his body. _I'm stronger then him_, I thought.

I smiled sardonically as I pressed against the doctor again, gaining inches towards the door with every push.

"Edward, remember who you are." He said, attempting to push me back again.

"I can't," I snarled at him as I pressed on.

"Yes you can!" Dr. Cullen bellowed. He said it so forcefully that I stopped my pursuit for the door. His black eyes pleaded with me. "You don't want to do this! If you give in, if you allow these instincts to win, then you will hate yourself. You can hate me all you want, but I will not allow you to hate yourself! You're stronger then this!" He urged, the usual evenness in his voice gone, replaced with a demanding edge. "Now, stop breathing!"

I did as he commanded, feeling my dislike for him grow. Because of him, because of what he had done to me, I craved to taste human blood. He made me into something unnatural, unholy. And although I couldn't bring myself to hate him, I wouldn't allow myself to forgive him.

I don't know how much time passed by while I waited to be told that I could once again breathe. I knew it was an unnecessary action, but the elimination of one of my senses was becoming uncomfortable. Dr. Cullen had released me, trusted me to withhold my sense of smell so I could avoid temptation. And although I didn't inhale, I stood in the doorway, anxious to not have to restrain myself any longer.

"Okay," he said with his voice as soft as velvet again. "They're gone."

I stepped out from the cottage, breathing in deeply, secretly searching for that forbidden smell again. I knew it was a pointless effort, for although I didn't know Dr. Cullen well, I was certain he wouldn't have released me if there had been any possibility of someone being harmed.

A quick glance around at my surroundings told me that we were in the woods, isolated from the rest of civilization. _Isolated_. The word had new meaning for me. Every moment I would be on this Earth, I was doomed to be in isolation. Whether it was to protect the innocent from my new, uncontrolled instincts or because I loathed the world I had suddenly been thrust into, it didn't matter. The ending result was the same; solitude. I was alone, forever. It was a fate I considered worse then death.

I strode a few more paces from the cottage, while Dr. Cullen followed with an air of trepidation about him. It took a moment before I noticed the clearing at the forest edge. The sun shone down gently, illuminating everything to an entirely new brilliance. The thick canopy of the trees that surrounded us prevented the rays from casting through to where we were. Silently, I gazed at the bright light, feeling the whisper of memory attempt to make it's way through the haze that had become my mind.

Struck by a sudden realization, I darted for the clearing. That whisper had revealed to me something I hoped to be true; a way out of this waking nightmare.

"Edward!" Dr. Cullen called after me.

Ignoring him, I raced on towards the daylight; I raced towards the sweet release of death.

In the few seconds it took me to get to the forest's edge I found comfort in the fact that I would not have to remain this monster I had become. I longed for the beautiful finality of death. I didn't care if it would be painful, I just wanted it to be real. I wanted it to be over. I wasn't sure how long I had been this... this _thing_, but one second as this unnatural being was too much. As the open field grew nearer, a thought crossed into my mind; is it suicide if you're already dead?

I burst forth from the woods like a bullet, anticipating the feeling of my body searing and turning to ash as the rays touched my skin. I closed my eyes and turned my face towards the sky, waiting for the end to come.

Feeling nothing, but hearing Dr. Cullen step into the clearing with me, I let my lids slide open. I was momentarily transfixed as I watched the sun dance over his skin; noticing that the slight gleam that had been there before now shimmered like diamonds. Confusion consumed me as I raised my hands up, noticing as they too sparkled inhumanly.

"There are more myths then truths when it comes to our kind," he said softly as I stared at him with questioning eyes. "We can't be destroyed easily. Trust me," he glanced down at this feet before meeting my gaze again. "I know." Quick flashing images of Dr. Cullen came into my mind; knives, guns, ropes... and so many more, all failed attempts at ending his own life. I stared at him, wondering how he could turn me into this abomination when he himself obviously didn't want to become the creature that he is. I bore my eyes into him, demanding an answer to an unasked question. However, he simply turned from me and with the same smooth, even voice said, "There are deer near by, can you smell them?"

With annoyance, I drew in a deep breath as if by command. My nostrils filled with familiar, yet intensified scents, as I searched for a particular one; one that I'm guessing I had never noticed before. I became aware of an earthy musk with a sweet undertone. Closing my eyes, I turned my head from side to side, trying to pinpoint which direction the smell came from. As I concentrated on this, my other sense came to life. My ears perked at the sound of a fast paced thump and the rustling of leaves. My eyes snapped open and I became aware of just how keen my sight had become. Nearly a mile away I saw the slightest bit of movement, a small brown mass walking amongst others like it.

I stood there, feeling my throat burn and wondering if there were some other way. _Can I do this? _I thought to myself. The lingering taste of the human scent was still on my tongue. Animal or human, it was my choice. Is it okay to commit one act of evil to prevent another?

Within a second I was off, heading for the poor unsuspecting herd of deer. I was amazed at how quickly and silently I moved. I was the worst kind of predator because I was the best. They had little hope of escaping me.

I stopped a few yards away, watching them graze. They were oblivious to my presence. I chose my prey; a small doe further away from all the others. There was nothing particular about this one, she was just unfortunate is all. Like me.

I heard Dr. Cullen behind me, keeping distance between us. He spoke so softly the herd did not hear him, but to me he sounded so clear that he could have been directly beside me. "Edward, there is no need for them to suffer. Be quick."

I snapped into action, moving quickly towards my selected target. My sudden movement did not go unnoticed. The herd began to run, but this did little good for my small doe. She noticed too late and any chance at an escape attempt was immediately demolished as I grabbed her around her rib cage and tugged her to the ground. I felt fluid fill my mouth as I yanked her head to the side. I stared down at her struggling body, watching her legs kick as she tried to free herself. _Do I just bite?_

I glanced back at Dr. Cullen who was watching me with cautious intensity. He nodded slightly, as if knowing what question danced through my mind. I turned back to my victim, feeling her squirm beneath my vice-like grip. Closing my eyes, I brought my mouth to her neck and felt my teeth slide into her flesh. The motion was smooth, as though there were no hide to combat with; almost as if the doe's skin were thin as paper.

For a sliver of a moment I was alive again as the warm, red fluid gushed into my mouth. There was a heartbeat within my body, though faint as it may be, it was still there. It didn't matter that it was not my heart that was beating, for the action remained forever imprinted into the fibers of my being. I understood then why it had to be blood that we needed to survive; it was the heartbeat that lay within the blood. Those beats are the essence to life. We didn't _need_ blood, we weren't going to starve to death. Our bodies longed to live; to feel those reverberations of life within it's boundaries again.

With this realization, I drew the animal closer to me as I took in more of it's blood. The small doe's legs kicked out helplessly; there was no real fight left in her. I could feel the life drain from her body as I fed, noticing as the blood continued it's course down my throat, that the beats grew ever more dim until the echo that had been in the red stream dissipated completely, leaving me longing for more. Her body stilled, save for a shiver that ran through her in her final moments. With a final beat, her heart stopped and her blood cooled. I could taste her death.

I pushed the carcass off of me as I stood. I was horrified at what I saw before me, at what I had just done. My first kill. I took little solace in the fact that it was not human as I looked down at the mangled form of the small beast. I tried telling myself that it was okay, I had eaten animals as a human. But I knew it wasn't the same. I hated that I longed to do it again. That I licked my lips and tasted it's blood and that made me ache to feel those heartbeats inside of me once more. I could feel the blood as it lay within my stomach, slightly quenching the foreign hunger that encompassed me. I was not yet satisfied, I would have to kill again. And again... and again. I had become a plague of death for all creatures that lived.

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**End Notes:**

**1.** So once again, sorry for this taking so long to get to you... I mean it's not like it should have been a difficult chapter to write... like I said, I have loads of excuses... and here are some of the major ones! First I got sick, real sick... then once I was better I got totally enthralled in decorating my apartment (which still isn't done by the way)... then... then I just got plain lazy! I got a new computer and found that I have pretty strict rituals when it comes to writing... and so I had to convert back to the lap top, which meant I had to get a flashdrive to send things to be proofed... and blah blah blah... mostly it comes down to me being lazy though! I mean, technically I started this story in November of last year, Chapters 1 and 2 that is.. but I didn't post it till January and that was because one of my girls that does my proofing was convinced I'd never post it, so I did it to shoosh her :) (love you Kathy!) so.... I do have tangents where I go, "nah... i'm good" soooo, if this happens again and nothing is posted after like 3-4 weeks... start harassing me! Cause I swear, the pms of "hello... where's the next chapter?!?!" made me go "oh snap! okay, focus!" lol... so yeah, I am truly truly sorry guys!! Please Please Please forgive me!!!  
**2.** Chapter 8 has already been started!! So hopefully that will keep the tomatoes from being thrown!  
**3.** Another boo-boo from previous chapters... So once again, in my pursuit of staying true to the story I have to say where I went awry... In chapter 1 I have Edward's dad as a banker... I wanted to be different from everyone else that was writing stories about pre-Bella Edward and everyone seemed to have him as a lawyer... and I couldn't find it anywhere in any book... so I basically said "screw it, I'm doing my own thing"... little did I know, twilight lexicon had asked that question to Stephenie Meyers and she herself said his dad was a lawyer... so my bad, but I'm not as angry at myself for that one cause that was learned through Personal Correspondence and not in the books... but still, I thought it was worth mentioning to you guys :)  
**4.** So, once again, music came into play for this chapter. The song "Hazy Eyes" by the band "Fightstar" was my inspiration for this chapter (actually this song is going to be in other chapters as well... I listened to it a lot when I was setting the chapter outlines when I originally decided to take on this monstrosity of a project) Particularly the lyrics "I wish I knew where I came from, I wish I knew where I'd been. I don't need you." It's very EMO, very awesome... totally recommend the song in general (but they do say a naughty word *wink* just wanna give a heads up)  
**5.** I honestly don't know where I stand with this chapter, it really was a haaaard write for me, I just hope it's not a hard read. Any and all input is, as usual, appreciated... even if it's a "dude, what the HELL was this chapter anyways?!?!" lol hopefully I don't get any of those, but if it needs to be said, then it needs to be said and I'm cool with it :) Next chapter I'm a little excited about... it has one of the main bits that when it came into my head I was like "I soooo wanna write this story JUST so I can write that part!" So even if this chapter sucked, maybe you'll stick around for that :)  
**6.** So it was brought to my attention through one of my proofers that I make a couple references/homages to the movie... the only INTENTIONAL one was Carlisle wearing the blue shirt in Chapter 4... all others are by accident... or just proof that I've watched the movie waaaaay too many times!! (If you're wondering what I'm talking about, in this chapter Carlisle says to Edward "Remember who you are!" and He says that to him in the ballet studio in the movie... When she brought this to my attention I was like "crap! but I like it!" ... so it stayed.. i'm sure there are others.. actually I know there are others, I just can't think of them right now, lol)  
**7.** Okay so here is where I thank you repeatedly and bow down to you if you have decided to forgive me for my 2 month hiatus and have come back to this overly-ambitious story :) I try and tell you guys how much it means to me that you read this, but I'm sure I don't do a sufficient enough job of thanking you so..... THANK YOU!!!! *hugs*


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